 Drawing 08·30·2022, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches This drawing came on a day when I received a vaccination in the morning; by 2pm I was feeling achy, physically compromised. I worked into the late afternoon, did this drawing. Am I happy with it? Not so much, which could be a distorted view because of my continued physical weirdness. Tomorrow will be better.
 Drawing 08·03·2022, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches I find this drawing uncomfortable. It sits here OK. It takes up space. It is filled with marks. So what!?
 "Uphill" (2022 No.3, state 11), oil on canvas, 60x58 inches I tend to do too much, not too little. The title of this painting is down to one word. With this change I have abandoned titles using quotations. I have quoted from literary figures in order to find my own place within space and time, but I don't require that anymore. Simple is better because the paintings speak for themselves, they don't need a crutch of words to lean upon.
This painting, "Uphill", still bothers me. Perhaps I love that ball at the top of hill too much. I am trying to accommodate it, but its instability rocks my confidence. Something needs to be altered.  "Silence, Exile, and Cunning" (2022 No.1, state 9), oil on canvas, 49x57 inches, {"I will not serve that in which I no longer believe whether it call itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use, silence, exile, and cunning." - James Joyce (1882-1941), "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" (1916)} Yesterday "Silence, Exile, and Cunning" changed; it is incomplete. Everything needs to come together. The discord in the upper left must be resolved.
 Drawing 02·02·2022, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches I feel uncomfortable with this drawing. It looks alien, yet I made it. What was I thinking? Discomfort is not necessarily unacceptable, nor does it make this drawing substandard. But, I gotta wonder, "Why the discomfort?"
 Drawing 07·01·2020 No.1, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches  Drawing 07·01·2020 No.2, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Pablo Picasso is known for his precise language, as well as precision in his art. I agree with much of what Pablo says. (Below, see Picasso's take on the inherent blindness of art-making and art-interpretation.) John Lennon wrote, "Happiness is a Warm Gun." I say, "Happiness is a Warm Pencil." Do I draw too much? Making marks is addictive, cathartic, warm, and clarifying. My drawing makes sense of my reality; others may find my art blind to the discomforts that are present in our political and social world. No matter; I probe my own depths. I am wide enough, deep enough, to be eternally in need of work; I am preoccupied with myself; I am working to understand. The reward? Me knowing more the more work I do. Subsequently, I feel enlightened, optimistic, and busy. There is much to do; I am solving my own mystery, which is the result of the mystery that is the world I live in. Yesterday's drawings are robust, clear, and confusing. They are like real-life. Pablo Picasso on Art-Making:  Drawing 08·04·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Even to me, yesterday's drawing sings a radical message. It conserves Western's Art's intrigue with perspective, yet creates a room-like environment inhabited by a form of many forms. It has little comfortable references to reality. This is pure three-dimensional abstraction, simultaneously conservative and radical. Viewing discomfort abounds! Is it good art? It is what it is: a test, a proving ground, research, and profoundly articulate. This drawing is filled with finesse of touch and of pencil marks. It exudes elegance in form-creation and in composition. Yet, it is disturbingly different; it is different than anything I have imagined prior to its existence. My role is not to judge, but to make, then move on to create some more.
 "Doublethink" (2019 No.3, state 2), oil on canvas, 58x58 inches {"Doublethink means the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one's mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them." -George Orwell, "Nineteen Eighty Four" (1949)}  Drawing 03·27·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Risk is going to uncomfortable places. Yesterday I forced myself to minimize my marks between forms. This was difficult for me because this is not something I have explored well. I uplifted my consciousness: I forced my self to allow a lot of negative space between forms in yesterday's drawing. You can also see me thinking this way in the upper right of the painting "Doublethink". One master of negative space is Kenzo Okada (1902-1982). Below is Okada's 1954 painting, "Footsteps".  Kenzo Okada, "Footsteps", oil on canvas, 1954  Drawing 12·13·2017, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Whatever you see in this drawing I see a reverse triangle that instigates great compositional vigor. I have noted before that Picasso utilized a tried and true center triangle in his masterpiece Guernica. Picasso's triangle is so forced as give the viewer boredom after multiple viewings. This highest clarity of composition does allow Picasso to invent incredibly rich, novel, and greatly emotive forms. It allowed Picasso to perform with intuitive abandon on a rigidly organized frontal compositional assault. Marvelous it is that Picasso absorbs the viewer in the active emotional strife of his characters. These hurt and screaming figures reside comfortably within a securely balanced image. Security versus chaos is Picasso greatest theme. Giving the viewer security, so they may feel comfort while they view chaos, is the reason I am deeply influenced by Picasso's best paintings, drawings, and prints. Returning to my drawing of yesterday: What I have called a "reverse triangle" can be found with one of its points cut at the bottom of my drawing. It moves the viewer up and around the two major forms on the right. Those forms, juxtaposed as they are by spherical versus cubic centers, each play with dissimilarity against the other. This occurs comfortably because they reside nicely in a secure, upside-down triangle. To be absolutely correct, there is no triangle there! My "reverse triangle" has its bottom point cut to flatness. Mathematicians call this shape a trapezoid.  Pablo Picasso, "Guernica", oil on canvas, 1937   Who's there? Not who you think! These are abstract images, yes, but they are also non-representational. The visualization is emotionally referenced, but not unkind or aggressive, just exploratory. That said, the spatial play, insisted upon in these drawings, is robust. One can follow the floor via shadows and marks. The outgrowth of forms above the plane is scary. The unease within these drawings is, to me, like hovering over a chasm while walking on a rope bridge. I am surprised by my personal discomfort. Is this a good thing? I don't know. When a viewer engages with Picasso's Guernica, or one of the more emotive self-portraits by Van Gogh or Rembrandt, is feeling safe important? Revelatory they are. Representational works are more direct than the drawings I show you today. Representation in Guernica, or in a self-portrait, is obvious. Do not take the images represented in my drawings as obvious!
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December 2022
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